Back Home
by Amarthril Tunarwen
Summary: MI5 isn't the only intelligence agency. Sasha Gavrik returns home to Russia and his job with the FSB after series 10 of Spooks (MI5). An assassination plot on his father – Ilya's – life may be the only thing that can heal their broken relationship. Rated K for the usual espionage-type action and themes.
1. Chapter 1

**I felt like Sasha Gavrik from Season 10 of Spooks was such a great character that he needed his own story. I wanted to explore the aftermath of Season 10 as I imagined Sasha would be deeply affected by it and his relationship with his father would (of course) be very strained. This is my first online published fanfiction so feedback is appreciated.**

**DISCLAMER: 'Kudos' owns ****_Spooks_**** and its characters, I own everything else.**

PROLOGUE

He lined the Stechkin's cold barrel up with the woman's forehead. Her short red curls shook as she pleaded.

"Don't. Please." Her voice was a desperate whisper. She looked up, begging for mercy. His steel blue eyes stared back at her but they didn't seem to see her. He averted his gaze to the older man behind her.

"Mercy." She tried again. He glanced at the elder man behind her as if for advice.

"Mother Mary..."She began to pray silently as he tightened his grip on the trigger.

* * *

><p>CHAPTER ONE<p>

Approximately 43 hours earlier.

Morning light broke through the heavy snow clouds in vain. The glistening snowflakes had scarcely swirled through the air before they permanently settled in a slushy mess on the ground. Lubyanka Square was silent but for a solitary figure slowly making its way towards another day of work.

Sasha picked his way through the square, his blue eyes dimmed by a year's worth of sleep deprivation. _"You should be thinking less and sleeping more." _a voice trailed through his head before he could bury it back down. He tensed slightly, for a moment his old limp pronounced itself before he regained composure and continued on his way.

Like the square, the Counter-Intelligence office's had also not yet started their day. All but Sasha. Sitting at his desk, Sasha began typing reports from yesterday's task. The room around him juxtaposed against the building's stately antique exterior. Its cool modernist style hid a manifold of computer and espionage technology behind clean white lines.

The sound of glass doors sliding announced the arrival of Sasha's colleagues.

"Christ Sasha. You need to get a life." was Stepan's greeting.

"This is his life." Leo re-joined in mock seriousness.

"Yeah whatever," Sasha said casually, trying to brush aside the conversation, "Take a look at this." He pulled up a passport picture on his screen for the other two to inspect. The man in the picture was young with sandy blonde hair and a large jaw.

"This man arrived Domodedovo airport last night. His passport says he is British going by the name of Jessie Kirk." Sasha then pulled up a profile from the FSB database. The picture matched the one in the passport. He continued,

"However, this man is actually a British Security Services officer, Tristan Reed."

"What the hell is MI5 doing in Moscow? We get six all the time but why five?" Leo questioned.

"Well," Sasha reached for his coat "There's one way to find out."

**I have already finished writing this story so I'll keep posting the other chapters till I'm done. Please feel free to review/comment.**


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

**I've tried to recreate as much as the espionage stuff from the show but in a different setting. I am not a spy (and if I was I wouldn't share that openly) so some of this may or may not be realistic. My only knowledge comes from watching too many spy movies and the internet. I also don't know a whole heap about Russia, I've never been there. I just love the language, culture, history and literature.**

The mid-morning Moscow streets were barely warmer than they had been at sunrise but Sasha was too focused on his task at hand to feel its bitterness. Leo had managed to track the MI5 agent using video feed from CCTV cameras which had led Sasha and Stepan to shadow him down this street.

"I have eyeball on target." He murmured just loud enough for comms to pick up but not so loud as to attract attention. Around him people bustled about their business, breathing out an army of smoke dragons in the bitter air.

In front of him the MI5 spook strode through the street. Often he spontaneously looked over his shoulder to check for tails. Sasha followed casually knowing that if did something old school like tying his shoelaces the spook would make him a heartbeat.

"Target turning left at intersection." Sasha relayed as the MI5 agent passed out of sight briefly when he turned a corner. Maintaining the same pace, Sasha also turned the corner to see the agent walking back in the opposite direction.

Sasha let him pass and kept walking,

"He's taking cleaning routes. Get an eyeball if you can Alpha Two."

"I have eyeball Alpha One. He's crossing the road towards a housing commission." Stepan's voice came crackling through Sasha's earpiece. He turned and walked slowly back towards the target.

"Follow him, I'll be close behind." Over the other side of the slush covered road Sasha could see the agent turn into a dingy salmon pink building.

"Update Alpha Two, what's he doing now?" Sasha requested while manoeuvring his way through the crowd to cross the road.

"Target has taken stairs to the fourth floor." Stepan reported.

Hurrying to catch up, Sasha joined Stepan on the fourth floor balcony overlooking a frozen courtyard. Stepan motioned to a dirty cream door,

"He entered apartment 412, a woman let him in. I got a photo of her." He said, waving to his smartphone. Sasha nodded, Stepan was a good agent.

It was only a few minutes later when the agent and the woman both appeared at the door again. Hidden by a decorative brick veneer Sasha and Stepan watched them both exit the flat. The woman had short red hair which curled loosely about her face. She was pale and slender but poorly dressed in a ragged overcoat. The spook was dressed in a heavy black overcoat and a grey scarf. He was the same blonde haired man from the file.

"You stay on them Stepan, I'll search and bug the flat." Sasha directed.

The generic door lock was of no issue and soon Sasha was inside the flat carefully memorising the location of every object. It was small and poky and looked like it had been furnished from a charity store but everything was ordered neatly.

He swiftly but cautiously began to rifle through the kitchen drawers and cupboards looking for anything that didn't quite fit. Next he brushed his fingers under the tables and chairs in search of any hidden items. Sasha glanced at the artwork on the wall. It was an ugly cross-stitch of a vase of flowers. Not the type of art a young person would normally put in their house. It wouldn't be that obvious would it?

Gently he lifted the painting and removed its paper backing. Behind it was a thin bundle of papers held together by a plastic band. Classic. The papers appeared to be coded letters which had been translated.

Sasha knew what they were instantly. Every spy would know what they were. They were messages arranging meets between the MI5 agent and the red haired woman.

"Alpha Two, the woman is a British asset." He whispered into his comm while photographing every sheet and then carefully placing the papers back behind the painting.

"Copy Alpha One. The target and woman are making their way back to the flat you have one minute." was Stepan's reply.

Sasha finished hanging the painting and began rearranging the drawers back to their original positions. He then deftly placed four microphone bugs throughout the flat. Hidden in the power sockets and light fittings he was confident they wouldn't be found.

"You'll have to find another exit Alpha One, the front door can be seen." Stepan warned. Sasha glanced around the room. There were no other doors, just a few narrow windows which led to a forty foot drop. There had to be a fire escape somewhere.

He checked the bedroom. It had a small window leading to a rusty fire escape ladder. Climbing through the window he made his escape back to FSB headquarters.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

**This is just a short chapter but it is necessary for the structure of this story. I wanted to write this story so anyone could read it (even if they haven't watched Spooks) so I leave a few Season 10 hints here and there but I'll go into all the emotional stuff as the story progresses.**

After trawling through the face recognition database for almost forty minutes Sasha finally found a match on the red haired woman from the flat. Her name was Ekaterina Ivanovna, an employee of a middle class real estate firm. With her parent's both dead and a brother in prison she fit the profile of a traitor well.

Sasha sighed, why couldn't everyone just stay loyal to their country? _But then I'd be out of the job_. Still, he couldn't criticise too much. There were some things about him from last year that he wanted to keep in obscurity.

"Sasha, we have something." Leo called from his desk. Sasha looked across the room to see Leo tethered to the listening station. Leaving his work, he sat next to Leo and slid on a pair of headphones. Scratchy voices came through the speakers,

"Why do they want him killed?" a female voice, presumably Ekaterina, asked.

"He is no longer of use and I believe there are several grudges still born against him." A male voice replied in Russian with an unmistakably British accent.

Sasha leant forward, it sounded like the British knew of an imminent assassination. The male spoke again, his voice dismissive signalling an end to the conversation.

"Either way, if something's not done Ilya Gavrik will be dead within a week."


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

**Just a note: the MI5 agent is my own invention. I contemplated bringing Dimitry in but I wanted the story to stay focused on Sasha and the FSB. Bringing other canon characters would send the story on another path from where it is currently headed.**

Sasha walked down the dark wood panelled corridor searching through door numbers. 319 ... 320 ... 321. This was the room. Checking his Stechkin he carefully placed it in the waistband at the back of his pants.

Silently he picked the lock and entered the hotel room. It had faded floral wallpaper and dark brown furnishing. The room was empty but a running shower could be heard in the bathroom. Sasha placed his gun on the table and sat on the dining chair to wait.

After a few minutes the young MI5 officer walked out, his body covered by a lone towel around his waist. On seeing Sasha he halted and took a step backwards. Sasha traced his finger along the black metal of his pistol and asked forcefully,

"Why didn't you tell us about the assassination attempt on Ilya Gavrik? Our countries are ... friends ... now after all." The agent smiled and appeared to relax a bit.

"But friends don't spy on each other either." The agent rebutted, hoping to diffuse Sasha's stone-like composure.

"And they _especially_ don't place assets within each other's countries to gain secret intelligence." Sasha replied unflinchingly.

"Well yes, that too." The spook looked a little tense now. Sasha picked up his gun and laid it across his knee.

"But I was coming to FSB Headquarters after I received the intel, I just needed to pick up some things."

Sasha remained unconvinced,

"Who is behind the attack?" he demanded.

"It's uncertain but there is a certain Russian nationalist group which was active a little while –"

"Their leader was taken down by an unknown hired assassin a year ago. We cleaned up the rest." Sasha interjected. The MI5 agent stepped forward,

"Look we don't who is behind it but we tell you if we do." He said softly. Sasha stood up, the battered chair creaked.

"Is there nothing else you can tell me?" He inquired icily.

"No, that's all I know."

Sasha looked at the man. His eyes and mouth remained steady; if he was lying he was a good liar. Sasha nodded and left.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

**This one was fun to write. Ilya and Sasha. Enjoy!**

It was the first time Sasha had been home in months. The once familiar drive customarily crunched underneath the tyres, harmonising with the constant bubbling of the icy water fountain. Up until recently it had been filled with the incessant bustling of visiting dignitaries and politicians – and before that – high positioned KGB members. Now, with his father's forced retirement it had morphed into a secluded haven, void of visitors of any kind.

Upon entering the threshold through the large royal blue door Sasha walked past the luxurious meeting and dining rooms to the back of the house. In the blue and cream kitchen the traditional samovar stood pride of place. Beside it sat his father, neatly dressed and dignified as ever drinking a glass of his favourite kvass from Zvenigorod.

"Sasha, I have not seen you for so long." His father said in his deep, resonant voice. Sasha didn't say anything. He stood tensely across from his father struggling to remain composed.

"Yes father. I have some information from you from work." He replied stiffly. Ilya lowered his eyes.

"Ah yes," he paused and turned to face the window. Outside the twilight was setting in but the dim shell of Matryona – the family tortoise – could be seen lumbering across the garden. Ilya continued,

"You have work to do but why not stay for some kvass?" Sasha still could not bear to be in his father's presence. He bit his tongue, holding back the memories of Ilya holding his mother's limp body in his arms.

"No thank-you." He said curtly. "We have intelligence that there is a plan to assassinate you. You have experience with this type of threat so the FSB recommends to increase your personal security. Agents will be sent to protect you if you require."

If Ilya was surprised he did not show it. He merely continued to sip his kvass. He nodded for Sasha to continue.

"We have no confirmed suspect yet but –" Sasha faltered. He hadn't brought up his mother since his arrival in Russia when he confronted his father.

"But you think it may be someone affiliated with your mother's lifelong ... service." Ilya finished the sentence for him. Sasha clenched his fists. His father sat there talking about his mother with such calmness it sickened him.

"It had been suggested, but not confirmed." Sasha replied. Ilya placed his cup down and walked around the table to stand directly across from Sasha. His worn eyes looked older.

"Sasha..." he said softly. Sasha glared resentfully back at Ilya.

"No. I don't want to hear it."

"Sasha, one day you'll understand what I did was for the best." Ilya pressed, his voice gentle and warm. Sasha was taken aback. Did his father truly think that?

"What you did was out of spite." Sasha argued. He wanted to restrain himself. To stay cold and distant would hurt his father more. But his buried anger was a wanton force that could not be controlled at will. Again, it demanded to be displayed like it did when he stabbed Ruth.

Throwing his fists into his father's chest he pushed him away into the table. Ilya eyes widened in surprise but – infuriatingly – he continued to remain calm. He straightened himself up and smoothed his suit.

"She never loved us. She was prepared to sacrifice you for her mission." Ilya still spoke composedly but there was a touch of coldness in it.

Unfortunately for Sasha, he could see the truth in Ilya's statement and it hurt him. He couldn't argue. His mother's betrayal was ruthless and wholly undeniable.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX

**This one is a tad angsty (not too much – I'm not into too much of all that). It mainly goes over the important events of Season 10 which I am sure left some big emotional scars on Sasha. It's also a background information chapter for my sister who hasn't watched Spooks and needs some clarity. I warn you now; I mention a little blood and some death (just in case that turns you off).**

Winter moonlight advanced across the wooden floor, illuminating the dark canvas paintings resting on the rough brick walls. Sasha lay staring at the ceiling – too tired to sleep. It was at this hour he found it hardest to dispel the memories which invaded his head like the hostile moonlight. Sasha occasionally floated into unconsciousness only to be called by his mother's voice beckoning him to relive that blustery English day.

_"__I knew he wouldn't kill you." She said. Her warm eyes which Sasha had previously trusted seemed to be brimming with betrayal._

_"__No. No you didn't." Sasha looked away. She placed her hand on his shoulder. It was soft as always but no longer imparted the same warmth. He turned to face his mother to find her face had contorted itself into the face of the British asset Ekaterina. _

_She was laughing. Her smile was low and throaty. She opened her mouth to speak but Elena's voice forth. _

_"__I would sell you to achieve my mission." She laughed again and as she laughed she reached forward. As she lunged for Sasha her face melted in to the face of Anatoly. _

_His long dark hair was entangled in a mess river scum. His eyes were eaten by worms but still stared accusingly through the empty sockets. Murky water droplets ran down the ring of bruises around his neck. Around him lay his water-soaked possessions in black plastic bags. _

_Anatoly stopped inches away from Sasha's face. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He just stared from his empty sockets, a soulless, lifeless stare that only expressed one thing. Betrayal. Whatever Anatoly could have said, Sasha had already said it to himself. _

_Sasha turned away but as he turned he found himself standing on the gusty peninsula. The glass bit hard into his hand, welling into a pool of blood at his feet. He barely heard Ruth's panicked protests. He thrust the jagged weapon into her chest and watched as she lay gasping ... spluttering ... choking._

_As Sasha lay cradling his shattered knee-cap he saw Harry gently embracing Ruth's lifeless body..._

_Again he was back in the interrogation room, except now he took his father's place holding his mother's lifeless body in his arms. Sasha could see himself across the room but could not look up. The only thing he could register was the unusual way in which Elena's head hung forward – as if she could no longer hold it up proudly as was her custom. _

_Suddenly his mother jerked forward, gasping. She looked at Sasha with wild eyes._

_"__Why didn't you stop him? Why didn't you save me?" She rasped. He voice whistled as she struggled to speak through her crushed windpipe. Sasha felt tears running down his cheeks. _

_"__I'm sorry. I tried. I want to save you." He sobbed. Elena shook her head. _

_"__No…" Her light brown eyes turned glassy and fell away from Sasha's face. _

_"__No. You don't want to." Her body relaxed again and her head fell back in its unnatural position. Blood began to seep from her eyes and run down her cheeks. Slowly she melted away into a pool of blood._

_Sasha frantically tried to scramble away but he felt himself sinking. Around him the blood pooled until Sasha was soaked. It kept welling up higher and higher. The warm red blood swelled until it became and ocean. Sasha gasped his last breath and the darkness swallowed him. _

Sasha jolted awake. Around him his blankets were skewed and his pillows thrown onto the floor. The room was still dark but for the bright moonlight. It wasn't yet three. Sasha grimaced; he had managed to sleep for two hours, which was longer than normal.

Sasha flopped back down on his back, exhausted. His tortured nightmares did not provide any relief.

**I'm not generally an angsty person and I don't write a lot dark stuff (I don't write serious stuff, I mean. I do black humor****all the time) but I wanted to creatively explore Sasha's psyche. Please review/comment.**


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN

**I wanted to explore the asset – Ekaterina – a bit more because she is my attempt at symbolising Sasha's mother.**

Entering the dingy housing block again, Sasha shook away his tiredness. The day was the same cold and grey type as yesterday. He adjusted the earpiece in his right ear.

"Alpha Two will be following behind you Alpha One. Call if you need back up." Leo's soft voice sounded through the tiny speaker.

"Affirmative. I'm going in." He replied. Picking the lock again, Sasha silently slipped through the dirty cream door of apartment 412. Drawing his gun from its shoulder holster he moved towards the kitchen where he could hear someone cooking.

Peering through the archway from the hall he could see the back of the girl's red hair. She was dicing potatoes with a large chopping knife. Sasha raised his gun and directed it at her neck.

"Put down the knife." He commanded. The girl froze. As commanded she placed the knife on the bench and turned to face Sasha.

"You're FSB." She replied. Her face was pale, her lips soft red. She looked relaxed, almost confident with her hand resting on her hip in spite of the gun aimed at her face.

"So you know our policy with British spies then, Ekaterina." He remained still.

A slight smile played across her lips. She stepped forward,

"Call me Kat."

Sasha frowned. He raised his gun higher.

"You know there's only one reason you're ali-"

"Because you want information from me" She cut him off. Again she drew closer.

"Well, you can have it." She continued. Sasha lowered his gun slightly, confused.

"I want to come in. To work for you guys." The girl concluded.

Her deep brown eyes were dark, almost black, but soft. _Like my mother's_. He shook his head. Forcing his mind to the present.

"I want in." She restated. Sasha was unconvinced. She was overconfident. Usually when confronted by the FSB most people cowered and pleaded leniency.

"I don't believe you." He said.

The girl nodded. She reached into her pocket. Sasha raised his gun again but she pulled out a small black pager.

"This my distress phone. I am to call my handler if I am threatened." She placed the phone on the ground and kicked it towards Sasha.

"I also didn't mention to them that you stole my files from behind that picture." Ekaterina added.

Her eye stared directly back at him, her thin lips formed in a slight curve. Sasha searched her face looking for a trace of falsehood, there was none there, but her hands had begun to quiver. She was masking her terror. That was good. Fear produced answers.

"Who is behind the assassination on Ilya Gavrik." He demanded. Ekaterina did not pause to reply,

"MI5."

Sasha nodded, unsurprised.

"Why?" He asked. She gazed at him and said matter-of-factly.

"They want to back out of the intelligence partnership with Russia. They need to break down relations by raising suspicion against themselves. Killing the person who worked the hardest to ensure the deal would do that aptly."

"Who is the assassin?" Sasha asked. Ekaterina made a coy smile again. She looked at her feet hoping to delay her answer.

"Me."

**Well for once I wanted to make MI5 the bad guys (at least from the Russian perspective). **


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

**I originally didn't plan this chapter but I added it in to further the plot and character relationships.**

Sasha peered through the dark tinted glass while sipping a double shot espresso. Ekaterina sat unfettered at a stainless steel table. How such a slight woman could commit murder for a living baffled Sasha. She barely looked like she could lift a full powered rifle.

"You right to do this?" Leo asked from the makeshift recording station in the corner of the wood panelled ante-chamber. Sasha drained the last of his coffee. _God I'm tired. _

"I'll be fine." He entered the cemented room. The textured green walls gave the appearance of being in a dingy lawn covered room. Kuzmin, Sasha's section chief had ordered him to keep her away from Headquarters until she had been fully debriefed. Sasha opted for a slapdash interrogation in an empty FSB safehouse.

Ekaterina looked up,

"No cuffs." She smiled and waved her wrists. "So you want to build my trust I see." Sasha smiled too, usually he only got verbal abuse when he entered an interrogation room. He pulled a half empty pack of gum out of his jacket pocket and placed it on the table. Ekaterina blinked,

"Aren't you supposed to bring me drugged water or something?"

"I'm making do." Sasha replied. Ekaterina shrugged then unwrapped a piece of gum and started chewing. Sasha did the same.

"So," he began "Your brother." Ekaterina stopped chewing and narrowed her eyes.

"What about him?"

"You tell me. Imprisoned for petty theft and assault." Sasha stated coolly. Ekaterina sat back and crossed her arms.

"He always was a drop-kick. After our parents died he pretty much abandoned me." She said.

Sasha pursed his lips, pretending bemusement.

"So how did you come to be a traitor?" Sasha asked. If Ekaterina was surprised by his forwardness she didn't show it.

"Fell in with the wrong people at university. Did some not exactly legal things. Then I was approached by my handler – the guy you followed to my flat – and asked to do some more not exactly legal things for MI5. " She stated offhandedly and continued chewing. Sasha shook his head,

"There's more to it than that."

"Yes there is. But I'll tell your guy at the listening station that later. There's something more important you need to know." She leant forward as if she was telling a secret.

"Tell me." Sasha rested his elbows on the table, playing along.

"The British aren't gung-ho enough to only hire one assassin. If I don't do the job – some-one else will."

Sasha's eyes widened. _Of course. _

"I wasn't supposed to know but they have another agent. He's a freelancer from China. Done some _very _high profile work." Ekaterina paused and looked over her shoulder.

"In my circles they call him the 'Black Cat' because he _always_ catches his prey and _never _makes a sound." Ekaterina leaned back and tossed hair back.

Sasha frowned. He wasn't about to swallow her story with-out some proof. He needed to talk to Leo. Sasha got up from his chair.

"Leaving so soon? Was it something I said?" Ekaterina asked, her coy smile back on her lips. Sasha grabbed the door handle but turned back.

"Why are you helping us?" Ekaterina's smile dropped and her eyes set themselves in a stare of dead seriousness.

"Payback."


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE

**My inspiration for this setting was the fish and chip shop used as a safehouse by Tom in season one or two. **

Sasha brushed the snow from the dilapidated coffee shop door. Checking once more for tails, he led his father into the long-empty safehouse. After learning that the British were running the assassination on his father, Kuzmin had commanded Sasha to keep quiet and take his father somewhere safe. Stepan and Leo were back in the integration safehouse with Ekaterina finishing up her debriefing and checking her story.

The windows of the safehouse were boarded with a mish-mash of newspapers and plywood. Pinewood chairs and tables appeared to be scattered haphazardly across the floor were actually placed in a very specific order.

Sasha stooped to inspect the room. The dust lay undisturbed on table surfaces and the furniture still seemed to be perfectly balanced.

"This takes me back." Ilya reminisced. His tall and proud figure contrasted against the shabby paint peeled walls. Sasha's reply formed a mere grunt as he began lifting the chairs and tables and stacking against the side wall. Ilya did not hesitate to join his son in the labour.

Soon the room was cleared and the eighties laminate square flooring was revealed. Sasha flung out a thin mattress and sleeping bag for his father. _Tough. You'll just have to make do, _he thought_._ Ilya, sensing Sasha's mood, moved towards the back kitchen.

"I'll see if I can make some coffee." He called. Sasha sat at a table and pulled up another chair to rest his throbbing leg. The gunshot wound to his knee still occasionally hurt when he exercised too much. Ilya appeared from the kitchen carrying to chipped mugs, steaming in the chilly air.

"No chance of a heater?" he joked. Sasha shook his head. His father knew very well that a heater would be an instant giveaway to anyone trying to locate him. They both sipped their coffees in frosty silence. _This is shit coffee_, Sasha thought, _but at least it's warm._ Ilya attempted to make conversation once more,

"You say the British want to assassinate me to break down our countries partnership?" He queried. Sasha sighed and put down his coffee.

"That is the intel we have received so far. Until further knowledge you're to be under my protection." He replied.

Sasha clutched his coffee again. Addressing his father like that was out of place. As a child he had always feared his father's grave austerity.

_"__Sasha!" his nanny threatened, "You're father is here. Come and greet him like a good son." Sasha looked up from his game of toy soldiers to see his father entering the hall. Peering through the banister railings Sasha noted his father was, as usual, surrounded by his colleagues. _

_Rising tentatively, Sasha watched his father shoulder off his heavy fur coats and then look upwards towards the mezzanine level where Sasha stood. Sasha was seized by awe mingled with terror at his powerful father. Ilya's face offered no reassuring smile or friendly twinkle in the eye. He met his son with a stiff nod and then proceeded to direct his colleagues into the nearby sitting room. _

Sasha's musings were broken by Ilya who suddenly put down his coffee with a disgusted face.

"This coffee tastes like shit, but it's hot." He declared, pulling his lips into a bitter pucker. Sasha looked up at his father and grinned. Ilya met Sasha's eye and chuckled to himself. The moment was interrupted by Sasha's phone which buzzed in his coat pocket. He answered it,

"Speak." He said, Stepan's hurried voice replied,

"Sasha, the Chinese assassin. He's real and in Moscow." He related curtly.

"Text me the address." Sasha said as he slid on his coat and unlocked the door.

"I'm on my way."


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

**This one's short but once again necessary to my story arc so bear with me. **

The late night denizens of Moscow's dingy industrial sector were startled out of their chemically induced stupors to notice a dark orange BMW first series M coupe speeding through the otherwise deserted streets.

"Humph" Ivan grunted, huddling closer to the fire. _Damn rich kids. Think they own this city._

The BMW screeched to an abrupt halt and a tired looking but smartly dressed man in dark jeans and black jacket jumped out and ran into the nearby deserted warehouse.

Ivan stared at the warehouse for a few seconds. Nothing. _Some university prank. _He turned back to the fire, warming his weathered hands over the crackling flames.

After several minutes the car still remained running across the street. Ivan's companions had cautiously crept up to the car in hopes of stashing some valuables.

The eruption of a loud thud from the warehouse scattered the street's inhabitants. The tired looking young man sprinted from the warehouse and jumped back in his car. He raced off back through the streets.

* * *

><p>Sasha gunned his BMW down the sleet covered street. <em>The Chinese assassin wasn't there. I've been fed bad intel. <em>He dialled Stepan over the car's speakers. After five dials the call went through to message bank.

"Damn." Sasha swore while bringing the car sharp around corner. He tried to dial Leo. Up ahead the highway tunnel was approaching. _I don't have long till I go out of range. _The call rang. Finally Leo picked up.

"Sasha, what's happening?" Leo asked. Sasha was now in the tunnel and losing reception fast. Before Sasha could reply Leo began speaking,

"Kuzmin wants you back here to debrief Ekat-"

Sasha interjected, speaking over Leo,

"Leo no. Don't trust-" The call cut out.

"Дерьмо!"Sasha thumped his hands on the steering wheel then pressed the accelerator harder and felt the car surge forward. _What the hell do I do? _The orange tunnel lights flickered past, briefly illuminating his face.

Sasha checked his Satnav, 20 minutes to the café safehouse where his father was hidden. Grimacing, he shifted into fifth gear.


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

**This is the final chapter where everything is resolved. There is a little bit of action in this chapter but nothing indiscreetly violent. Thanks for reading - maybe I'll write some more fanfics in the future. :)**

Silently the assassin crept down the grimy alleyway. A flickering streetlamp did little to illuminate the thickset darkness. The assassin manoeuvred around the ice and trash which mingled in a slushy mess on the ground. The rusted back door to the long abandoned café was hidden at the back of the alleyway, partially covered by some disused garbage skips.

Ignoring the door, the assassin lept on top of skips. The bins groaned faintly but held the weight. In a few short movements the assassin was running lightly across the roof like a feline.

Scanning along the roofline, the assassin found the entry. An unused exhaust vent from the café's kitchen. Before removing the rain cover the assassin checked the weapon. Flipping the safety off, the assassin the lifted the rain cover and slid into the vent.

The inside of the café was barely warmer than outside although defended from the bitter wind. Crouching low, the assassin peered into the café's main dining area. A man sat in the corner, his head resting on his chest. The target. Confidently, the assassin stood tall and strode into the café, pointing the gun directly at the man's skull. Time had come for Ilya Gavrik.

Gavrik looked up startled, his faced betrayed a flicker of panic before his customary cool resolve set in. The assassin allowed time to savour the moment. Ilya's eyes remained fixed on the assassin's eyes, searching for way out. A curve crept across the assassin's red lips.

"You had this long coming old man." The assassin indulged in every word, pronouncing each syllable with prepared care.

"This is for Alyona and Erik Ivanovna." The assassin said with vehement hatred. Suddenly the Ilya's eyes flickered, only for a second, on something at the back of the room.

The assassin didn't need any other warning. Spinning on one foot the assassin instinctively directed the gun to where Ilya had looked.

It was too late. Before the assassin could register it, Sasha placed cracking blow fell across the assassin's face. Another well placed blow in the stomach and at the back of the knee's left the assassin kneeling on the dust sprinkled floor.

* * *

><p>Out of breath, Sasha looked in the assassin's brown eyes. <em>Of course it was you.<em>

He lined his gun's cold barrel up with the Ekaterina's forehead. This time she made no confident saucy remarks. Her short red curls shook as she pleaded.

"Don't. Please." Her voice was a desperate whisper and her hands trembled. She looked into his eyes begging for mercy. Sasha tried to return her stare but had to avert his eyes. He looked at Ilya who was now standing behind her. Ilya stepped backwards as if to say: _This is your decision Sasha. _Inwardly, Sasha sighed.

"Mercy." Ekaterina pleaded again. Again Sasha glanced at Ilya. Ilya only pursed his lips. _Not this time, you choose whether she lives or dies. _

"Mother Mary..."She began to pray silently as he tightened his grip on the trigger. Ekaterina bent her head and joined her hands. Sasha remained frozen unable to decide. He looked again at his father.

In the moment when Sasha shifted focus Ekaterina reached out and grasped his ankle, bringing him to the ground. Her surprising strength was just enough to get the upper-hand. Sasha retained the grip on his gun but before he could raise it again Ekaterina had already retrieved he gun and aimed it had Ilya.

Ilya did not move. His neutrality was so absolute he would not even flinch. In one deft movement Ekaterina had shielded herself with Ilya and trained her gun on his temple.

He fixed his eyes on Sasha. _Decide. Now_.

"Your father will die." Ekaterina crooned in her low voice.

"By the way, you're a terrible interrogator. You know that right?" Sasha blocked out her attempts at distracting him. _Focus_. He lowered his Stechkit from Ekaterina's head and glanced at his father for approval. Ilya made no movement but to tighten his lips. Ekaterina continued,

"You're also a terrible spy. Or maybe I'm just good. I did completely fool MI5 and your spooks back at that poxy interrogation safehouse." As she laughed she kept her eyes directly on Sasha.

Sasha clenched his jaw. _Now or Never. _Squeezing the trigger, he shot the pistol into his father's shoulder, not far from his heart.

Ilya threw himself on the floor after the bullet passed through him leaving Ekaterina standing in shock behind him. A tiny pool of blood blossomed from her chest. It was an easy shot at such a point blank range but Sasha was relieved to hit his mark.

Sasha wasted no time in raising the gun to her forehead. He looked into her dark brown eyes on last time and saw them harden in anger.

"Go to hell!" she spat before Sasha pulled the trigger and she collapsed on the floor.

* * *

><p>EPILOGUE<p>

Morning light burst through the snow clouds, spilling onto the white snow and warming the cold walls of the FSB headquarters. Two figures exited the building and made their way across Lubyanka Square.

Sasha and Ilya did not say anything to each other. Both too caught up in their own thoughts to hold a conversation.

Sasha felt strangely awake, as if the adrenaline of last night was still pumping through his veins. He breathed deeply, the air was warmer today and didn't sear his lungs when he inhaled.

"MI5 will have to change their recruitment policy. Harry Pearce is getting slack letting monomaniacal assassins manipulate them." Ilya stated.

_MI5 aren't the only ones in question,_ Sasha thought. Somehow Ekaterina had convinced Stepan and Leo to release her from the interrogation cell last night. Sasha sighed, _I'll worry about that later. _

"Why did she want to kill you so badly?" Sasha asked, wistfully glancing up at the bright sky.

"She spoke of her parents. I've done a lot things in my life, Sasha." Ilya stopped suddenly to observe the frozen fountain. Small beads of water fell from the icicles.

"People have been harmed when it wasn't necessary to." He finished. Ilya glanced at his son and a hint of warmth crossed his countenance.

As they neared the end of the square, Ilya's privately chauffeured car pulled up. Ilya looked at Sasha, his face showing the wear of many years in the secret service. Motioning to his arm which was wrapped in a sling he said,

"You're a good shot."

Sasha smiled and opened the door for his father.

"Thanks." Ilya nodded and slid into the car. Sasha stood and watched it exit the square. The snow dripped away as the early morning traffic picked up.

In the back of car, Ilya closed his eyes and thought,

_I have a house, a son and tortoise in the garden. _

**I really thought about letting Ekaterina live but I started this story with her death in mind. Besides, the whole point was for Sasha to finally move on from his mother's death. He had to choose his father over his (symbolic) mother. **


End file.
